


What You Can't Take Back

by ArgentJinx



Series: Can't Take That Away From Me [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: Artist Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Bruce Wayne needs to learn how to parent, Can they all just get along? No, Complicated Relationships, Damian Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Damian Wayne is Robin, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Dick Grayson is Trying, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I WRITE WHAT I WANT, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jason Todd is a good brother, Nu52 sucks, Photographer Tim Drake, Sibling Rivalry, They all need so much therapy, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Traumatic Brain Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:26:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24656803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentJinx/pseuds/ArgentJinx
Summary: Damian cuts Tim's line.  It doesn't work out the way he'd hoped.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: Can't Take That Away From Me [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1793854
Comments: 91
Kudos: 508





	1. Cause and Effect

**Author's Note:**

> So this takes place right after the last Red Robin. Instead of cutting his line in the original timeline, Damian's plan with destabilizing the billboard is what caused the 'Hitlist' fight. And I'm leaving out anything to do with Batman Inc. because 1) I really didn't like the storyline and 2) the idea of Bruce ditching his kids (even temporarily) for something like that after JUST returning from being lost for six months is just... DC why? 
> 
> Originally this was a COMPLETELY different story when I started writing it and then I read a comment on someone else's fic saying they wanted to read something where Damian cutting the line actually hurt Tim, maybe permanently, and the fallout from that. So, commenter that I can't find, I don't know if this fits the bill or not, but it was inspired by you. (The commenter has been revealed as roseandrubies and the fic was 'Redrawing the Lines' by BirdChild!)

That his father considers Drake to be a threat to human life is absurd, but it’s an absurdity that Damian intends to take advantage of. When he had attempted to kill Drake by dropping him off of the top of that ridiculous dinosaur (after the older boy had saved his life), it had resulted in the first time he had helped his father on a case. When he tried to harm Drake a second time by weakening his anchor points on a billboard and instigating a fight, Grayson had expressed some mild displeasure but seemed largely uninterested. Perhaps if Drake had explained the extent of Damian’s actions instead of saying he ‘jumped him’ Grayson would have been more interested. Though Damian still felt vicious satisfaction in what he’d done after seeing his name on that list.

This time, though, Damian has a plan to remove Drake and make it clear that the older boy is no longer welcome in his home. It had been simple enough to lie and express interest earlier in the night that he wanted to work on Drake’s case tracking down a dirty cop. Drake had hesitated but had taken his cue from Grayson and Father, who had looked pleased.

Damian doesn’t speak to Drake as they head out to the rooftops to start their search. The patrol remains quiet as the two track down their prey, eventually spotting him on a quiet side street. Drake looks over and says “Shall we?” 

He stands at the edge of the roof top overlooking the street and fires his grapple to anchor across from them. He leaps casually into the air, line going taut for a moment and Damian has a split second to make a decision. They’re only three stories up, hardly a fatal height for people like them. He throws a shuriken, slicing cleanly through the line and watches as the older boy twists and grabs for a flag pole. Damian turns away when he sees that the man they’d been pursuing had started to flee the moment he heard the clink of the grapple. Taking off after the man Damian can hear a muffled crash and he grins to himself.

Several hours and a fruitless search later Damian is forced to conclude that he had been evaded. Making his way back to where he had left Drake he realizes the older boy is gone. A fall like that would have resulted in a few broken bones, most likely. Drake had probably returned to his apartment to recover, since no calls had been made over the comms. With a sigh of irritation Damian calls Grayson to come pick him up.

“Where’s Tim?”

“The pretender and I got separated hours ago. I have not seen him since.” Damian feels no need to explain that the other boy might be injured. Drake knows how to take care of himself. Grayson has said so enough times it must be true.

They return to the cave to find another intruder has just arrived. Jason Todd is as imposing as himself as he is as the Red Hood. Damian’s father is standing tensely next to the computer and nods to acknowledge the arrival of his son.

“Missing someone?” Todd’s jaw tightens as he looks at Damian and for a moment the boy feels a twinge of apprehension before shaking it off.

“Drake’s whereabouts are hardly our business, tt. He can take care of himself.” Huffing, Damian begins to peel off the layers of his uniform.

“I called the Titans and they got him to Leslie’s. They’re with him now.” The tension in Todd’s voice makes Damian pause. 

“What happened?” “What did you do?” Damian’s father and Grayson speak over one another as they glare at Todd.

“Me? This wasn’t me.” Damian can feel his heart beat in his throat when Todd looks coldly over at him and raises a flash drive. “I was across the street. My helmet has cameras.”

Grayson takes the thumb drive with a questioning look and plugs it in. A video file opens immediately, already queued to the moment Red Robin is about to shoot off his grapple. Damian knows what everyone is about to witness and an unidentifiable feeling (fear, regret, shame) shoots through his body like static. On the screen, Red Robin fires, the grapple connects solidly, Red Robin is swinging. And then Robin appears behind him throwing a shuriken, slicing smoothly through the line. Then Red Robin is falling, grabbing out for a flag pole which halts him for a millisecond before snapping. His momentum throws him at the railing of a fire escape, his head impacting briefly, neck twisting painfully, before he plummets to the ground. Robin can no longer be seen and Damian remembers that he had taken off after the dirty cop when he saw Red Robin grab the flag pole. In the video Todd’s voice can be heard, telling Drake to stay still, stay awake, help is coming, I called the Titans, they’ll be here any minute. 

The video ends and all eyes fall on Damian, accusatory, betrayed, angry. He wants to defend himself. He needs them to know the intention had been to eliminate Drake from Damian’s life, not existence. He just needed the older boy to know that his presence was unwelcome in every aspect of Damian’s tightly woven world. 

Before anyone can say another word a crash echoes throughout the cave as two angry aliens burst into the cavern. Superman is attempting to conceal his emotions, his professional demeanor barely cracking. His clone feels no need to restrain himself, eyes glowing as his gaze lands on Damian. Damian’s father steps between them and the tension makes it difficult to breathe.

“If you’re wondering where your missing son is, he’s currently unconscious in a hospital bed.” Superman’s stony voice cuts the air like a knife. “Don’t bother going to see him. You’re not welcome.”

“He’s my son, Clark.” The Batman voice leaves no room for argument and he actually grabs Damian to lead him out of the cave. “Just try and stop me.”

“He said you’re not welcome.” It’s Todd, of all people, who blocks them from leaving and a stand-off ensues.

“This is some kind of misunderstanding. Just give us a minute here to figure things out. Please, Uncle Clark.” Grayson is speaking before anyone can move. “Damian, what happened?”

Looking between his father and the enraged clone Damian swallows the rising lump in his throat. “Father added Drake to the hit list. It was clear that he no longer wanted or needed Drake’s presence after the incident with Harkness last month. I simply intended to highlight his incompetence.”

The cave is silent and Damian can hear his pulse before his father says, “What hit list?”

“The list of those who have become a danger to human life. The one that Drake once put me on.” Damian will not cry. He absolutely will not. His actions hadn’t been unwarranted. 

“Damian, that’s not a hit list. That’s not even a watch list.” His father’s voice is dry of emotion. “Superman, my friend, is on that list. So is Wonder Woman. Because sometimes things happen. We’ve seen brainwashing, nanites, magic, hypnosis and parasites turn our closest allies. It’s just a tool for us to be able to know how to handle someone who goes rogue and why that might happen. Tim’s been on one since his trip to the future with the Titans. I was updating it.”

“I’M on a list like that because Tim put me there. He’s my best friend and I crushed his arm into dust once. Tim has categorized how to take down pretty much every person he’s ever met for longer than two minutes. You’re not special.” The clone’s voice is clogged with bitterness. “And what does Digger Harkness have to do with anything?”

“Tim deliberately endangered the man’s life before rescuing and arresting him.” Damian’s father quickly explains the circumstances of Harkness’ escape from justice and Drake’s convoluted scheme.

“So Harkness, the man who murdered Tim’s father, comes back from the dead, again, immediately starts making plans to commit mass murder, again, steals what he thinks is highly sensitive and extremely deadly material, again, and you’re angry at Tim even though he didn’t kill the guy? He didn’t even hurt him and you have the moral high ground?” A note of disbelief tinges the clone’s voice.

Superman looks equally concerned and confused. “You’ve left people to die, Bruce. Dick beat the Joker to death, regardless of the fact that he was revived. Jason has literally murdered dozens of people. And Damian has attempted to murder Tim three times now. And the first time he did so he threw a severed head at him. A head from the man he murdered.”

“I wasn’t trying to kill Drake! I told you that. I just wanted him out of my life! You don’t know what my life was like. He could have ruined everything for me.” They all stare at Damian with looks varying from horror to pity to disgust.

“When, exactly, do you have to start taking responsibility for your actions? You’ve been here a year.” Superman’s tone is steely. “At what point in your life will ‘you don’t know what I’ve been through’ stop excusing you from murder? Next year? Ten years? How many more people are going to die in the meantime? How many of them will deserve it?”

“He’s still a kid.” Grayson’s voice is a relief to Damian. “I’m not saying that this is acceptable. This never should have happened and it never should’ve been allowed to go this far.”

“Are you serious? Tim could be dying. The only reason I’m not there is Dr. Thompkins said we couldn’t stay with him.” The clone spits venomously, “If you guys have trouble teaching someone that actions have consequences then allow me. Damian isn’t part of the Titans and he’s never going to be. And if Tim dies, then Batman ends with Bruce. There won’t be a legacy to fight over because I will bring it down if it continues with Damian. How’s that for consequences?”

“Do you mean that? That he might be dying?” Damian’s father asks in disbelief. Perhaps he had been hoping that it was meant to be some sort of elaborate lesson. The look on Superman’s face makes it very clear that Drake’s condition is potentially dire.

“I’m sure Dr. Thompkins will update you if anything changes. But just so we’re clear, Tim won’t be coming back here.” Superman pauses to look at each of them. “I don’t know how things got this bad, but I won’t let them get worse. If he wakes up and he wants to see you that’s up to him. But he’ll be making an informed decision. Jason gave us the video already.”

Before anything else can be said the two Kryptonians have exited, leaving a wave of chaotic thoughts in their wake. The attention of the entire room moves on to Todd, who seems tense but unsurprised. Damian knows Todd hated Drake. His own mother had seen to that. So why was the older boy apparently keen to assist a former foe? 

“If you’re wonderin’ why I was there, I been following the kid for a few weeks.” Todd tugs uncomfortably at the white patch in his hair. “I wanted to talk to him. He knew I was there but the timing wasn’t ever right. So we just kept circling each other. ’Til tonight, at least.”

The fact that Todd had helped Drake, despite the fact that he had been taught to hate the other boy as much as Damian had, struck a nerve. Damian wasn’t prone to introspection. His world view is set and the few people whose opinions he cares for seem content to let him stay that way. His past actions hadn’t been wrong. They certainly hadn’t been corrected by anyone. Whenever he allowed himself to recognize the pain Drake had been feeling he reminded himself that the other boy was simply weaker. That was what the League had taught him and no one had shown him otherwise.

Without another word Damian finishes removing his uniform and bolts up the stairs. He does not like what he’s feeling. It hurts him. It confuses him. He emerges from the hidden door behind the clock in his father’s study just as Grayson catches up and grabs his arm to halt him. He doesn’t fight.

“Damian, I need some kind of explanation. Please, please tell me you have one. This isn’t you, Dami.” Grayson sounds sad. “I have seen you be kind. And compassionate. And empathetic. And I truly thought you would be able to work through your…hatred… of Tim. So I need an answer. 

He kneels down so that Damian is taller and they can see each other’s eyes. They stay that way for several minutes while Damian collects his thoughts and actually attempts to express what he is feeling. Finally Damian is able to speak. “You loved Drake. But I needed you more. Your love. Your approval. And this home. And Robin. You loved him and you dismissed him completely even though he needed you because I needed you more. What happens to me when someone else needs you more? What if you realize someday that Drake needs you more? Would you let another person treat me the way I’ve treated Drake? Even if they had suffered, would you excuse them so easily? I saw what you did, I know what I did and I saw what it did to Drake. If you did to me what you did to him I believe it would kill me. And you can’t promise that you would not do such a thing. Because you have already done it before.”

Damian glances over to where his father had just walked through the doorway. “Father loved Drake as well. And yet he reprimanded Drake for almost harming someone. Someone who’s life had already ended twice! Someone who deserved to stay dead. I have harmed many people, some who did not deserve such actions. You hold Drake to an impossible standard and he often exceeds it and it is never enough. I will not be able to meet those standards, I know it.” 

He had felt so vindicated, so empowered when Grayson had given him the Robin mantle. Watching Drake’s face crumble as his mind inevitably fell with the shock had only solidified those feelings. But then Drake had taken a new mantle, faced down and then eradicated the League of Assassins, returned Bruce Wayne from beyond the grave and managed a billion dollar company, all without Batman to guide him. But even after everything that Drake had done, Robin, the manor, Grayson’s affection and Batman’s attention all belonged exclusively to the blood son. Which had felt like a victory at first until the bitter question of ‘how long does this last for me?’ entered Damian’s mind.

The room stays quiet because there is nothing that can be said to make this better. Grayson looks more conflicted than Damian has ever seen him. It’s rare that the former Batman doesn’t have a quick fix to any situation. Finally Grayson takes Damian’s face between his large palms and holds him for a moment. “I don’t know how to fix this, Damian. I wanted things to just work themselves out and now I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know if this can be fixed. I’m sorry that I let this go on for so long. I’m so sorry that you feel this way. And I’m sorry that now you might have done something you can’t take back because I was too scared of losing you to help you when you needed it.”

Damian’s father seems just as uncertain and that is equally wrong. Batman isn’t uncertain about things. But he stands there, pale, almost ill-looking, with a lost expression on his face as he stares at Damian and Grayson. 

The slamming of car doors startles the trio and the sound of the front door opening is followed by people walking into the manor. Pennyworth enters the study followed by Dr. Thompkins. Damian hadn’t even noticed that Pennyworth wasn’t around.

“Master Jason informed me that Master Tim was with Dr. Thompkins so I felt it would be prudent to get any information first hand. Dr. Thompkins agreed to return with me to relay the facts and find some answers.” Pennyworth avoids their eyes and nods at the doctor.

“I won’t lie to any of you” Dr. Thompkins says briskly. “It’s not looking good. There’s a great deal of damage to his head and neck. We won’t know much until the swelling goes down. The real test will be when he wakes up. If he wakes up.”

“He’s going to wake up. And when he does we can help him. Whatever happens we’ll help him.” That’s the certainty Damian has been looking for. The father with the answers to everything.

“It’s not that simple, Bruce.” Dr. Thompkins says firmly. “You can’t spend money on medical technology that doesn’t exist. He might have permanent complications. Or maybe nothing. Head injuries are funny that way. Maybe he’ll bounce back and be completely fine in a few weeks.”

“But you don’t think that’s likely.”

“No. But Tim is a strong boy.” She pauses and looks directly at Damian. “I’m afraid I didn’t actually come here to talk about Tim. This is a serious situation and the fallout can and will affect all of you, but especially Damian. I need you all to answer some questions.”

Damian nods numbly as his father and Grayson affirm as well. She fixes her gaze on Damian again and asks, “When you cut that line tonight, did you understand that your actions were going to result in Timothy being injured?”

Damian nods, throat too tight to speak, and looks down at the floor.

“Did you think that Timothy deserved to be injured, potentially permanently, or even killed?”

No, he hadn’t wanted Timothy killed or, worse, hurt permanently. That would have resulted in his recovery taking place in Damian’s home. Which is the last thing Damian wants. Or had wanted. After explaining his feelings to Grayson and father, Damian can’t seem to justify why he had felt the need to take things so far. So he shakes his head no to Dr. Thompkin’s question and she looks away from him without pressing further. Grayson earns her attention next.

“Richard, did you know that Damian was a threat to Tim? Did you believe at any time that he was capable of something like this?”

“No. I mean, I knew that Damian didn’t like Tim. But he’s been doing so well. And Tim never really gets upset with the things Damian says anymore.” When Grayson says that the uncomfortable feeling returns to Damian’s stomach. “He just ignores it most of the time. He’s even willing to work with him.”

“Like tonight?”

“Yeah.” Grayson’s eyes are enormous and pleading when they look at Dr. Thompkins. “I didn’t know things were like this. When Bruce disappeared everything was out of control for everyone. I didn’t know how to handle it. I was barely able to keep my head above water, Leslie. And I thought things would get better if we just gave it time.”

“You can’t pretend that you didn’t have resources, Richard. You had Barbara. Stephanie. You had Alfred and even Jason. You had me. You had a home and a library and unlimited funds for anything you might need. Including healthcare. You had a damn internet connection for a google search. Don’t tell me you didn’t have the resources to at least set some boundaries for this child because you did.” The doctor glances over at Damian’s father. “And you’ve had even more since Bruce came back. I know that you suffered. I know that it was difficult and it must have felt impossible sometimes. But your first priority was a child. And the moment you accepted responsibility for him, you became responsible for everything he does. His trauma does not excuse his actions. It simply changes how you address them.”

Damian’s father steps forward, “Leslie, Damian was always my responsibility. This is on me. Dick did the best he could at the time.”

The stiff look on Dr. Thompkin’s face conveys her anger. “I have let many, many things slide with your family over the years, Bruce. Because I truly believed that your guidance and what you allowed them to do was better for them. Now I have to wonder if I was wrong. I have a boy fighting for his life right now because another child attacked him without cause or thought of consequence.” 

Damian doesn’t see how he can defend himself from that statement when his father responds. “He’s still learning. It’s too late to go back but no one knew how far this would go.”

“If Damian is still learning right from wrong then how can he function as a vigilante whose job it is to determine right from wrong? The only reason I’m not reporting this situation is I believe any alternative is a greater threat than leaving Damian here. But if something like this happens again then everything will come out.” Dr. Thompkins is pulling out her phone and typing rapidly. “And as things stand currently, I’m sure you’ve been informed, you are not allowed to see Tim until he’s capable of deciding what he wants for himself. I’ve called a cab. I’ll see myself out.”

She steps past Pennyworth without a goodbye, and is out the front door in seconds.

\------

Sleep remains elusive as the sun rises outside Damian’s window. His only saving grace is that it’s a Saturday and he will not have to suffer through the inane ritual of school. He wonders if he will ever have to return if he is a danger to his fellow students. The thought is not a joke to him as it might have been once. 

Stretching quietly, Damian listens for the other members of the household. His father had left not long after Dr. Thompkins in the hopes of seeing Drake despite the standing orders. Grayson had supposedly gone to bed when Damian had, but it’s unlikely that he’d ever even gone to his room. Pennyworth is moving quietly downstairs, but that’s all he can hear. Damian considers attempting to sleep again before rising and dressing in casual clothing. 

He doesn’t want to see anyone. Not Grayson, or his father or Pennyworth. Damian doesn’t even know what he wants, he only knows that there is an ache right under his ribs that he needs gone. Unable to remain inactive for another second, Damian opens the window to his room and scales gracefully to the ground before heading towards the city at a jog.

It takes several hours to get to Drake’s apartment and he is infuriated to see movement and dark hair pass by the window. How dare Drake put them through all of this! He storms into the building, intending to give Drake a verbal thrashing and - stops. Even if Drake has returned or recovered, Damian had still gone out of his way to harm him. He had still done something reprehensible and yelling at Drake isn’t going to fix that. 

Damian arrives at Drake’s door, shifts nervously from foot to foot, and knocks. Heavy footsteps, far heavier than Drake’s, reach the door and it opens.

“What’re you doing here?” Todd towers over Damian, glaring down at him.

“I thought perhaps Drake had returned and we had not been informed.” Damian refuses to be cowed by the former Robin.

“Well tough shit because there’s still a pretty decent chance you killed him.” Todd moves back into the apartment, but leaves the door open to allow Damian to follow. “What do you really want?”

Nervousness bubbles up in Damian’s chest and exits through his mouth in an atrocious jumble. “To explain myself. I know that it might be too late. I know that what I did was wrong. I knew it when I did it. I don’t know why I did it. I have a reason. An excuse. I just needed to hate him. It was a constant, immutable fact. It was a comfort.”

“You think I don’t get that? You think I don’t know who went and put that in your head in the first place?” A green tinge to Todd’s eyes flares up. He moves over to the coffee table and picks up a stack of books. “That kid never did a thing to me and I hated him. He helped me and I hated him. Because why not? You’n me both, we did this. The only difference is I realized first about being wrong.”

Damian finally steps through the door and closes it behind him. “If he wakes and I apologize everyone will assume it is done out of pity, or perhaps because I was caught in a wrongdoing and want to avoid further consequence. If I don’t apologize and attempt to make amends then I will be branded as heartless or incapable of empathy. I cannot escape this trap I’ve made.”

“Look, kid, your life was fucked from the start. You had Talia as a mom. The only thing worse than that is having Ra’s al Ghul as a grandfather. I know what she told you about Tim. She turned me on him too. But the biggest problem I see is with your old man.” Red flushes Damian’s cheeks as he leaps to defend his father, but Todd continues. “When you arrived the first thing you did was follow your mom’s instructions. Eliminate the threat. And you tried. Then instead of sittin’ you down and talkin’ to you, telling you that you don’t haffta fight for a place in a family, instead of tellin’ Tim the same, he just decided to let two children think the other was out to gettem’ and he has to go off and save the world. The way I see it, you two never had a chance to be anything but enemies. Dickie didn’t do much better by the two of ya. I don’ know why a supposedly responsible adult decided that a physically and mentally abused ten year old and a depressed and neglected sixteen year old were gonna fix themselves.”

It’s the longest speech Damian has ever heard from Todd. He wants to deny it. He wants to keep blaming himself because the actions were his and father is almost perfect and Grayson is Grayson. And yet, he had continued to hurt Drake and it hadn’t been wrong until it suddenly was and it had been wrong the entire time and the people who could have stopped it never did. Damian decides to think over these new and frightening ideas at another time. Instead he looks at the books Todd is holding.

“What are those?”

“Photo albums. Tim’s apparently a hell of a photographer. I wanted to see. I just finished up before you got here.” Todd hesitates for a moment before handing the heavy stack to Damian. With nothing better to do and curiosity burning in his mind, Damian sits down crosslegged on the floor and spreads the four albums out around him.

Damian had heard some of the stories of young Drake racing across rooftops with camera equipment that almost weighed more than he did. He had heard of Drake’s skill as a photographer, but dismissed it as a foolish hobby. He had never seen any of Drake’s work before, however. Starting with the earliest pictures Damian carefully perused the images in the first album. The pictures weren’t the all important surveillance shots that could lead to arrests, nor were they the over-exposed, hyper-focused shots favored by social media ‘influencers.’ The pictures were art, the kind that made people feel things. Each photo was an entire story captured in a moment.

The very earliest pictures were of Grayson at the end of his tenure as Robin. Despite the fact that these were Drake’s most amateur shots, Damian could see everything he had been trying to capture. The tension in Grayson’s shoulders, the twist of Father’s mouth, the joy of a free fall, the pain of losing someone they couldn’t save. Soon Drake’s pictures become more focused and the image of Batman becomes a solitary one. And in the solitude, the tone of the pictures changed. Where there had once been flashes of brightness, of hope, the grays and blacks and blues remained unbroken throughout the final pages. 

And then the bright flashes return in the next album and the quality of the pictures continue to improve. Jason Todd, former boy wonder, dominates the pages. Batman is no longer the focal point of the upgraded pictures. A new camera seemed to coincide with a new Robin. The improved shutter speed and better lens is obvious. Over the next few pages the theme of the pictures begins to change. Robin is still the running theme, but the focus has turned to those he rescued. A woman gasping for breath as she’s lead from a burning building. An elderly man lying on the ground, Robin’s hand clutched tightly as he sits. A tearful child hugging herself as Robin pulls an attacker away. For the first time Damian sees Robin as Drake must have seen the mantle. Robin isn’t an enforcer who doles out pain and punishment. He’s a savior. A hero. Looking at Todd through the eyes of a neglected ten year old it isn’t hard for Damian to see why Drake was willing to give his predecessor so many chances. Years of hero worship would be hard to undo.

When Robin once again disappears from the images another theme emerges. A theme of pain and violence. Red dominates the pictures as blood spatters like paintings in the aftermath of Batman’s crusade. ‘We don’t kill,’ Drake had said when Damian had first attempted to murder him. Drake had been the first person to say that to him. He had set that first boundary and Damian had immediately attempted to cross it. Looking at Batman through Drake’s eyes Damian could see that his father had once been headed in that direction. Driven to extreme violence through grief and loneliness. 

The third album displays a new era, one where Timothy Drake has taken up the mantle. The pictures of Batman are few and far between. Robin is non-existent. Instead the city stretches out across the skyline. A silhouetted gargoyle contrasts against a full moon. Icicles hang from gothic buildings in a snowy twilight. Civilians laugh and cry and talk and live throughout the pictures. This is the city Drake sees worth protecting with his life. Damian rarely appreciates the beauty of his new home, though he sometimes enjoys sketching the complicated architecture. What’s more surprising, though, is that Drake had photographed many of the places Damian most enjoyed drawing. They share the same ‘eye’ for unusual angles and striking scenery. 

The last album has very few pictures in it. A dozen at most. Once again a new Robin is the focal point. The photographs have all been taken since Batman’s return from being lost. Damian doesn’t want to look at first. He doesn’t want to know how Drake views him. But the first picture is of Damian sitting with his father as Batman and Robin for the first time. Their heads are tilted towards each other, engaged in conversation. Another picture is of Damian sketching while a crow sits several feet away and watches. In a third Damian is in motion with Grayson as Nightwing as the two soar over an alleyway, backlit by a billboard. Nothing in the pictures depict Damian as anything other than the energetic hero Grayson claimed he was. There is no malice on Damian’s face, no look of scheming or anger. Drake saw Damian. Like Todd, perhaps he felt there was some way to mend their damaged relationship. It was why he was so willing to turn his back on Robin when they went out together. He trusted Damian to have his back in the field. 

Finally looking up Damian realizes that he’s been seated silently for hours. His legs are asleep and his back is stiff. Todd has been moving through the apartment systematically cleaning, for some reason. He isn’t moving any of Drake’s things, just cleaning around them. He folds discarded laundry and puts it back where he found it. He lifts the now powerless laptop off of the counter and wipes the surface before putting it back. He’s not redesigning any of the organized chaos, just…cleaning. Eventually he notices Damian’s eyes on him and stops.

“Want a ride back?”

\------

By the time Damian is dropped back at the driveway of the manor, night has fallen completely. Lit windows scatter the manor sporadically and cast an inconsistent glow on the front walkway. The door opens before Damian can grab the handle and his father emerges.

“Where did you go?”

Damian swallows down his discomfort at his father’s tone. “I went to Drake’s apartment. I just wanted to see it. I did not do anything inappropriate.”

He doesn’t mention Todd, who had disappeared the moment Damian had stepped off of the motorcycle in front of the long driveway. His father nods mutely and they head inside together. “Tim hasn’t woken up. There’s activity on the monitors, but nothing else.”

“Did you get to see him?”

“No. He has quite an honor guard around him. Leslie spoke with me in her office.” He has that lost look on his face that Damian is so uncomfortable with. “Damian, I should have spoken with you about Tim on the first day you arrived. I should have talked to you about all of your brothers. And I did a great disservice to you as well when I didn’t fully explain your situation to Tim. I didn’t even try and that was wrong.”

Damian waits to see if there’s more, there should be more, but it doesn’t come. His father is silent once again. Brooding, Grayson would say. The League had taught him that actions were what mattered. Actions created results. So why is he so desperate for words? Instead he receives a warm hand on his shoulder and then his father is gone. 

Furious and frustrated Damian heads off to find Grayson. His words are sometimes meaningless nonsense, but occasionally they offer value and insight that Damian desperately needs. He finds him in the family room stretched out on the couch with his feet up on the armrest. Pennyworth would be furious. His head turns when Damian enters and he offers a half-smile.

“Drake put me on that list. Should I be on it?” Damian says without greeting, wanting some sort of relief from burning questions. He feels conflicted, because yes, he’s on a list of people who could pose a potential threat to human life. But that’s also not wrong. He is a potential threat to human life. So is Superman and Wonder Woman and Drake. He had not been singled out.

Grayson doesn’t answer him right away and sits up to make room for Damian to sit next to him. “Tim wasn’t always so…paranoid, I guess. He was so neglected he would talk to anyone about anything for a little attention. But then Jean-Paul tried to kill him after Bruce entrusted the Batman mantle to him. Then Superboy went rogue from brainwashing and also tried to kill Tim. Then Jason came back from the dead and beat Tim unconscious. And then later tried to kill him. And don’t tell them I told you this, but I think Jason was Tim’s favorite Robin. Oh and Stephanie sent a bunch of assassins at Tim as some kind of weird test. My point is that all of those people were heroes that Tim admired. He trusted them. And they turned on him. Tried to kill him. I think after a while it just seemed easier to make lists and prepare for the worst.” Grayson’s voice tapers off thoughtfully. Damian noticed he didn’t actually answer the question. He was beginning to realize that maybe Grayson didn’t have an answer to everything either.

“For what it’s worth, I am sorry. Not because he got hurt. Not because I got caught. I truly believed it was something I had to do. Because I need you to need me and not him.” Damian knows what he’s saying is a poor substitute for what he’s feeling, but he owes it to himself and Drake and Grayson to try.

“I don’t just need you in my life, Damian. I want you. You’re a part of my life I can’t imagine being without and so is Tim. I didn’t know how much I needed him, wanted him, until he wasn’t here. And then he was back and I was so relieved I couldn’t make myself bring up the past. I couldn’t face that and everything seemed to be okay. But what I should have said to both of you is this. Love is not a competition and families are not something that you fight to be in. People might not start out as families, sometimes they form over time and circumstances. But you don’t fight to be in one.” Grayson rubs a hand over his suddenly shiny eyes. “I should have done this a long time ago. Explained things. Bruce should have said all of this when you first got here. For a man who’s studied every aspect of human behavior I still can’t believe he doesn’t understand it. The truth is, you and Tim should have been brothers. Should be brothers. I know you don’t realize but you’ve actually got a lot in common.”

“Like what?” Damian curls up against him and listens to his heartbeat and his voice. It’s clear that Grayson had rehearsed what he wanted to say. The fact that he’s willing to put so much effort into his speech warms Damian’s heart.

“You’re both kids who don’t know they’re kids. Who never really knew how to be kids. You both had really shitty moms and emotionally constipated dads. You both think you have to live up to some impossible standard. You both think love is earned.” Grayson looks down at Damian’s face. “You are both very loved for who you are. Not as an extension or a replacement.”

Damian spends the rest of the night sleeping against his brother, listening to his voice tell stories about the Robin’s that came before him.

\------

Three more days pass before any news of Drake is brought to them again. Dr. Thompkins stops by once more to talk, a hesitant smile on her face. 

“Tim was awake last night.” Damian sees the relief on Grayson’s face while his father’s hands clench. “It was only for a few minutes, but that’s not unexpected. He was confused and agitated. He kept asking for Conner to check on his dad. He didn’t want him to worry. He said his head and neck hurt but he can feel all of his extremities.”

“Those are all good things, right? Confusion like that is really common after a head injury.” Grayson’s hopeful expression makes even Damian feel optimistic.

Dr. Thompkins isn’t quite as hopeful, but she doesn’t look as bleak as she had the first night. “It’s a good sign, but we won’t know about any potential cognitive complications for a little while. Not until we can run some tests with him. And even then it might be weeks or even months for us to notice all of the long-term complications he might have.”

“Like you said, Leslie, Tim is a strong boy.” Damian’s father finally speaks. “I have no doubt he’ll make a full recovery. Faster if you let us help.”

The doctor huffs in agitation. “Again, that will be up to Tim. If and when he is able to make a sound decision I’ll let you know.”

She stays for half an hour, going over papers and scans and a variety of medical terms that Damian has no interest in. He goes to sit on the front porch and think. Drake woke up. He talked. He was confused but Grayson said that was okay.

When Dr. Thompkins emerges from the house Damian stops her and asks, “When will he see it?”

“When he can hold a conversation. And stay awake for more than a few minutes.” She doesn’t say it unkindly and that almost feels worse.

“He won’t want to see me again. I know. Can you tell him I apologize? This was never my intention.” Damian looks her squarely in the eyes. “I know that what I did was immoral. It was dishonorable. Even my grandfather would not approve of attacking an opponent while his back is turned.”

“But are you sorry?” She says it so calmly, so kindly, it feels like a slap.

“Yes. I’m sorry. This will not happen again. It cannot happen again.” He tries for conviction. It feels more like exhaustion for some reason.

“I’ll tell him, Damian. Because I believe you mean that.” She reaches forward and touches his face gently. “But I can’t guarantee he’ll do the same.”

\------

Weeks go by, school drags on and patrols barely give Damian any pleasure anymore. Robin has become a penance instead of a passion and sometimes the cape feels like a chain around his neck. Dr. Thompkins provides them with regular updates as Drake’s condition seemingly improves. His setbacks include bouts of vertigo and nausea that come and go in waves. Her biggest concern is his difficulty concentrating and in retaining short term information.

“I have no doubts that for the majority of his adult life he’ll be able to live as a healthy, fulfilled and independent person. It will take some adjustment to his lifestyle and it might require some part-time assistance to help keep track of his schedule.” Dr. Thomkins sips from a teacup as she updates them nearly six weeks after the incident. “He might continue to improve over time. There’s no way to tell for sure.”

“Does he ask about us?” Grayson asks like he does every visit. Drake had apparently seen the video a few days after he had woken up and requested to remain estranged from the family for the time being.

“Sometimes. He’s still uncomfortable with the idea of seeing any of you.” The doctor is thoughtful and Damian is thankful he hadn’t been singled out. “Part of it is frustration and embarrassment. It’s common for those who suffer from these conditions to isolate themselves. His Titan friends are doing an excellent job of keeping him from wallowing.”

Drake’s mind had always been what made him stand apart from the other Robins. For Grayson it was charisma, Todd had tenacity and Damian had ferocity born from desperation. But Drake had his mind. Damian catches his father’s eye momentarily and can tell they are sharing similar thoughts. What would it be like for Drake to not be able to trust his quicksilver thoughts and flawless memory? Dr. Thompkins had said he could live a fulfilled life. Did she mean without Red Robin?

Pennyworth leads the doctor to the door as the others say their goodbyes. Without her voice to keep the conversation going, the house feels entirely too large and silent. Damian finds it ironic that he felt Drake’s presence had been an imposition when now his home constantly feels empty. He and Drake could have both lived in the manor and not seen each other for days if they hadn’t wanted to.

\------

As he lies in bed later that night a tap on his window startles him from near sleep. Todd is outside holding on to the windowsill with his fingertips and looking irritable. Damian rises to allow Todd into the room. As the older man tumbles through the window Damian shushes him, fearing that his father or Grayson will hear.

“So what’s the update from the good doctor?” Todd had refused to return to the manor and sit with the rest of the family during Dr. Thompkins visits. He had opted instead to enlist Damian as his eyes and ears. Damian relayed the information accordingly. Once Damian has filled him in, Todd smirks smugly. “Well I have an update for you, kid. Timbo’s back in his apartment. I think maybe the Titans are planning on staying with him in shifts or something. But he’s definitely back.”

The news elates Damian for a moment before he realizes he has no idea how to go about reaching out. Should he respect Drake’s wishes and stay away? Or should he attempt to make contact and offer the first olive branch? Will Drake even feel comfortable reaching out in the future if he didn’t attempt first? It’s one of those moral dilemmas where every answer is both wrong and right depending on the results. Damian hates those.

“I’d like to see him. Before he can disappear. I’ll say what I need to and then I’ll stay away. For good, if he wants. Or until he reaches out. But I think I have to be the first to try.” Damian’s jaw is set and Todd grins at him.

“Alright, when do you want to go?”

“Now?”

“Okay, let’s do it.” Todd leaps recklessly out the window and is on the ground before Damian even crosses the floor.

Damian changes into street clothes and meets Todd at the bottom of the driveway. “I am grateful for the ride but I think that I should speak to Drake without you.”

“Good.” Todd agrees too quickly and Damian stops to look at him. Realizing he’s lost his follower, Todd looks back. “I sorta talked to him already. Not too long after he woke up. He saw the video, remember? He knows I tried to help him so we talked a bit. Some of the stuff he said… I just think you reaching out is gonna be the only option here. But you had to decide for yourself.”

“How was he?” The desire to know wars with rage that Todd had kept this from him. But Damian is trying to control his temper better lately and with that in mind he realizes that his anger is misplaced. Todd had no obligation to inform him of a private conversation.

“Just, sad, mostly. And tired. He didn’t let me stay long and I haven’t seen him since.” Todd sighs as they reach the motorcycle and tosses a helmet to Damian. “So you talk to him and I’ll go to another room or something. I ain’t leaving all the way ‘cuz that’s not fair to him. But yeah, you guys should talk.” 

It’s well after midnight by the time they arrive at Drake’s apartment. A light is on in the window so Damian doesn’t feel too badly about the late hour. He drags his feet to walk up the stairs instead of taking the elevator. He had been planning what to say but with every step his thoughts become more scattered and the first signs of panic hit his nervous system. He is both grateful and frustrated with Todd’s solid presence behind him, forcing him forward. 

Finally they reach the landing, both too quickly and yet not nearly fast enough. Todd nudges Damian’s shoulder and they make their way to the door. With one final look back, Damian raises his hand and knocks.


	2. Trial and Error

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim suffers the consequences of other people's decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's discussion of depression, medication and some of the symptoms that can occur from a traumatic brain injury.

Tim knows that his inability to focus, the pain behind his eyes and the blurring of the computer screen are just symptoms. He knows that because every few minutes he looks at the list Conner had written down. The list of symptoms that can result from traumatic brain injuries. It’s the list that keeps him sane and drives him crazy. Because even though he knows what’s wrong, even though he knows the whys and the hows of what he’s feeling, Tim has to check the list. Just to make sure.

Less than two months ago the answer to any question could always be found at his fingertips in seconds. Now he can rarely focus on questions long enough to type them out. He raises his hand to the keyboard to try again, squinting at the screen and watching the words blur together. He can feel the frustration rising in his throat like bile.

His watch buzzes. After begging the Titans for days to PLEASE let him have some time to himself, they had arrived at a compromise - The W.A.T.C.H. or Wearable Automatically Controlled Tech Health monitor. Dr. Thompkins had come up with the functions, Tim had added things he thought might be personally useful, Cassie had helped Tim articulate what he actually wanted, Bart had built it using his access to various technologies and Kon… named it.

The current issue the WATCH is trying to alert him to is his elevated heart rate. If it stays like that too long it will send a signal to the Titans. Tim takes deep breaths and leans back from the computer, eyeing the screen of the WATCH and allowing his heart rate to slow back down. He doesn’t understand his body anymore. Dr. Thompkins has all kinds of analogies and comparisons, but it feels useless to someone who once had nearly perfect control over his body.

Worse than the lack of control over his body is his lack of control over his emotions. Tim often wonders if this was how Jason felt during his bouts of pit madness. The wild mood swings, the paranoia, the complete lack of filter. The most amazing thing is, his anger gives him a voice. When he lashes out the words come freely. He never has to search for them. He never has to wonder what he’s trying to say. And, yes, sometimes his vitriol is wild conjecture, sometimes it’s true but taken out of context. Some of the things he’s said to his friends should have ensured they would never speak to him again. But they’ve stuck with him and he’s managed to at least recognize when he’s about to blow up.

There’s a knock on the door. Speak of the devil. Or think of the devil. Tim looks at the WATCH and sees that his resting heart rate has returned. A quick glance around the apartment to make sure nothing is out of place or cause for worry. There’s a bowl that he was sick in earlier and a half-empty ginger ale can, but those are practically accessories for him at this point, as are the seasickness tablets for his vertigo.

Tim makes his way over to the door slowly, careful to watch where he places his feet, and opens it. It’s not Kon or Bart or Cassie.

For weeks just the thought of seeing any members of the Wayne family had made Tim feel sick. And now, on the other side of the door, was a person he hadn’t ever wanted to see again. Tim had known those feelings were impractical. There was no way he’d be able to avoid them forever. But to be blindsided, when he has no back-up, no plan and no way to defend himself causes panic to send his heart racing again.

Damian Wayne stands on the other side of the door, looking almost as surprised as Tim, like he hadn’t expected to actually see him. Tim can’t bring himself to look away and slam the door. The WATCH buzzes to notify him about his heart, or breathing or blood pressure, and brings him back to reality just as Jason steps forward.

“Can we come in? Feel free to say no.”

Jason’s presence changes things. Tim has been trying to figure out how to reach out to him for weeks, but he also hasn’t wanted anyone else to see him this way. Practically skeletal from the constant nausea making it impossible for him to keep food down and willing to lash out at the most unpredictable times. 

Tim steps back from the door, right hand fiddling with a button on the WATCH that will have one of the Titans over in minutes if he needs them. If Tim had anything left in him to be sick again he would be. Damian enters, followed by Jason, who takes in the bowl, ginger ale and seasickness tablets with a knowing look.

“Can we sit down?”

“No.” Tim has allowed them inside temporarily because these people are nothing if not stubborn, but he is not about to stand seeing Damian sitting comfortably in his sanctuary, like he belongs there. Having the kid in his presence ignites the ever present anger that seems to have settled into Tim’s chest. “Why are you here?”

“I’m sorry to jump you like this. But it’s the only way I think that you’ll be able to- look, shit. I’m not good at explaining.” Jason’s frustration at being unable to say what he’s thinking strikes a chord with Tim. He knows that feeling all too well lately. Jason takes a breath and tries again. “If there’s one thing you’ve never been good at, it’s settin’ boundaries. And the only ones you’ve ever set have been stomped on by people you thought you could trust. So right now, no matter what you say, you get to decide. Let the kid say his piece and then you make the rules. Whatever you need. And if that’s never seein' ANY of them, or me, again, we respect it. I figured if Bruce or Dick-face tried to reach out you might crack and they’d take advantage. But if it’s Damian, you have a better chance of sayin' what you need.”

That…actually makes a lot of sense. The other bats didn’t want to believe Leslie or the Titans that he didn’t want to see them. They wouldn’t have believed Jason if he’d been the one to speak on Tim’s behalf. If Damian confirms that he spoke with Tim and Jason enforces it, Tim might actually, finally, have some control. “Fine.”

Jason picks up the dirty bowl and other discarded items and moves to the kitchen, leaving Tim and Damian standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. Tim moves to stand behind the couch, keeping it between the two of them as a barrier.

“I know what is supposed to be said, but I don’t think useless platitudes are what you need.” Damian is still so small, so young and so full of potential to change. As far as Tim knows, he’s also still full of potential anger, cruelty and malice. “As worthless as this is now, I am sorry. I can explain my actions, if you feel that would help. Todd said I should talk to you, but he could not help with what to say.”

“You listen to Jason now?” That’s a new development. Tim wonders if anyone else knows. He can’t help but feel jealousy tinge the anger in his chest. He knows it’s stupid. He and Jason were never friends. But Damian already had Dick, Bruce, Alfred, hell even Stephanie.

“Todd provided some insight for questions I did not know I had.” Damian admits uncomfortably.

The Tim that was on the rooftop with Damian that fateful night would have done almost anything for a real conversation like this. Which was ironic since in many ways that Tim had died for this conversation. 

“If you want me to forgive you, I can’t. There’s nothing you can do or say to make this right. You had everything. I wasn’t competition. I wasn’t a threat. I tried to stay away. But it wasn’t enough. You have officially taken everything that I have ever cared about. ” He’s practically shouting at the end. There is a very small part of the old Tim that just wants to forgive and forget and go back to a life where maybe he’s not the most loved, but at least he knows who he is. But the fire in his chest that’s fueled by this new anger burns those thoughts away. Hurting Damian isn’t his objective, so he tries to bring himself back under control. Even if he doesn’t want to hurt Damian, he’s under no obligation to forgive him. “Trying was the right thing to do, Damian. But it’s not enough.”

It’s clear that Damian’s distressed, but that’s not Tim’s problem. He said what he’d needed to. Instead of the crocodile tears and red-faced explosion that Tim’s come to expect, Damian nods, eyes a little too bright. “I did not expect forgiveness. I am uncertain about how our lives will proceed from here but is it possible that I can try again?”

“Try again to, what, apologize?”

“Try again to talk.” Says Damian quietly. The sincerity of that statement baffles Tim. The League of Assassins believed in actions, not words. “I don’t expect talking will fix what’s been done. I just-”

“Not now. I don’t want to talk to you now. Or tomorrow. Not next week.” Tim looks down at the floor. “It might not happen for a long time. It might not happen at all.”

Jason comes back in the room, wiping his soapy hands on his jeans. He looks between the two boys and nods. “Right. Before we head out is there anything you’d like to have us pass on to Pinky and the Brainless?”

A rapid knocking on the door prevents Tim from speaking and the door opens before anyone can answer. Bruce strides into apartment as though he’s arriving to a party he’s late for and this is too much for Tim. Jason he was almost happy to see. And Tim had needed to say those words to Damian. But now he’s overwhelmed. The WATCH buzzes for the third time that night.

“Please leave.” Tim grabs the back of the couch to keep himself upright as the vertigo that troubles him sporadically hits once again. Tim doesn’t know if Leslie has told Bruce that he might never fully recover. He might always have difficulty focusing, dizzy spells, pounding headaches and emotional outbursts. Tim knows that as far as long-term damage goes, he should consider himself lucky. It could have been much worse. But he doesn’t feel fortunate. He just feels angry. Jason moves to stand near Tim in solidarity and provide support if needed. A clear warning to the intruder.

Tim doesn’t want to look at Bruce. The unpredictable mix of emotions that Tim can’t seem to control anymore roils in the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t want to talk to him. He never knows what he might say nowadays. Bruce already knows that he’s broken, he doesn’t need to think Tim’s crazy.

“Tim calm down. I just want to help.” That’s Batman’s voice. Strong, dependable, infallible. 

The rage bubbles up in his mouth and exits in an explosion of words. “I don’t WANT your help. So you can take your family and your pity and your fucking generosity and get out.”

“I own this apartment.”

“Seriously? That’s what you want to say? Kid tells you to fuck off and you point out that you’re his landlord?” That’s Jason defending him. Nothing else matters because he has someone in his corner. Defending him.

“It’s not as secure here and it’s not home. He needs us. He can’t afford to try and be independent right now.” Bruce’s voice is firm, no room for argument. Jason had been right to say that if Bruce had confronted him, Tim would have followed his wishes.

“It’s his home. It’s where he feels safe. And did you really just try to pull the money card? This kid was runnin' your company while you’ve been doing fuck-all for months. He gets a salary. And I know we all hate to bring this up, but Timbo has his dad’s life insurance invested. And I’ll eat my boot if he don’t have funds stashed away that he took from the League of Assassins.” Jason grins brightly, “And if he really gets worried 'bout his money situation, he could just sue you. Seriously. You’re the one who’s technically accountable for his sufferin'. What’s that term? Reparations. You owe him reparations for physical and psychological trauma.”

“Jason, this is serious.” Bruce reprimands angrily.

“I am serious. You’re tellin' this kid that he has to be dependent on you. That’s not true. I’m not Babs or Tim, but I ain't stupid. I know how to look into someone’s finances and assets. He has money. He owns property. He’s emancipated. You wanna help him out financially? Settle outta court. But you keep pushin’ and sayin’ he has to go home and I swear to god I will help him drag you through the mud.” Everything from Jason’s voice to his stance expresses his determination.

Bruce looks taken aback. “You planned all this?”

“I mean, not for tonight. But yeah.” Jason glances at Tim. “Why is everyone always so surprised when I have a plan? Do I just make running a criminal empire look easy or something? To be fair, the only plan I had for tonight was to bring Damian here.”

For the first time since he’d arrived, Bruce seems to realize that Damian is there as well. Had he really not noticed? 

“If Tim was willing to talk to Damian then I should have been with him.” Bruce sounds agitated. “They could have hurt each other, even unintentionally.”

“Like I’d let that happen. I brought Damian here as penance, so he had to face what he’s done and be strong enough to own up to it. And now if he has to live the rest of his life knowin' that Tim doesn’t forgive him, I don’t see how that’s a bad thing.” Jason is shouting now, which causes Tim’s head to pound. But the words he’s saying make him feel warm. “You keep sayin' it shouldn’t have happened. But it did. So you have to live with that and so does Damian. And after almost two months you still haven’t done ANYTHING! Damian wasn’t even grounded, he’s still Robin, he still has absolutely everythin' he wants. I mean, holy shit. If feeling guilty is what keeps Damian from pullin' crap like this again, then at least he’s learned something.”

Tim catches Damian’s eye. This has gone on long enough and Tim’s going to get sick soon. He decides to take a very small leap of faith with a very small former assassin. “Damian, you agreed to respect my boundaries tonight. You agreed to help enforce them. You and Bruce need to leave.”

“You heard Drake, father. We’re not welcome here. And it’s late.” The room stills as Damian speaks up. Tim had honestly not expected Damian to follow through so easily and apparently neither had anyone else. “Goodnight Todd. Drake.”

Damian sweeps out of the apartment, clearly expecting Bruce to follow. Jason stands in front of Tim, effectively blocking him from Bruce’s view. Tim can hear Bruce’s carefully controlled breaths, can sense the movement past Jason. Finally Bruce quietly says, “Stay safe,” and pulls the door closed as he leaves.

\------

Tim wakes up the next morning to a cacophony of excited voices and the smell of slightly burned sugar. Despite the mild nausea that he wakes up with every day now, there is an underlying desire for food. That’s new. Clearly whoever is in his kitchen, and it’s not difficult to guess, is not here to cause him any kind of problem. With that in mind he takes his time to shower, brush his teeth and dress in his most comfortable sweats and t-shirt. Twenty minutes later he makes his way towards the noise, carefully watching where he puts his feet as he braces himself for a potential bout of vertigo.

When he arrives at the kitchen he’s greeted by his well-meaning but overbearing teammates raving over Jason’s french toast. 

“Crème Brûlée french toast.” Cassie tells him as she piles fresh fruit on his plate as well. “Did you know Jason can cook?”

“I didn’t even know you guys and Jason were friends. I thought everyone was still a little cautious.” He takes a bite of the concoction and it is Devine.

“That was before he fed us.” Bart is working his way though approximately 10,000 calories worth of carbs, but looks up at Tim with a grin. “And we talked a few times while you were laid up. And then a LOT while you were sleeping last night. He’s currently tolerable.”

Jason ignores him and glances meaningfully at Tim’s plate where only a few bites have been taken. “I can make somethin’ else if you want. I talked to Leslie this mornin’ and she said you’re supposed to be eating as many calories as possible right now. Apparently long-term nausea isn’t unheard of and she wants you to eat when you can.”

Tim rolls his eyes. It’s not his fault that he can barely walk without feeling like he’s on the deck of a ship in a storm. Half the time he moves too quickly and his insides feel like eels are sliding around in his stomach. He takes another bite, appreciating how the sweetness has soaked into the bread.

“Jason told us what happened last night. You should have called us.” Kon’s narrowed eyes would be more intimidating if he didn’t have cream cheese smeared down the front of his shirt. “And I don’t care what the brat said. He’s still never going to be one of us. A Titan.”

“Good.” Let Damian have the Outsiders or something one day. Whether or not Tim is ever able to be a vigilante again, the Titans are HIS team. They had made that clear during their visits with him while he was recovering. He still has a place, just maybe not in the field. Not yet, he tells himself.

“So, Timtam, what’s your plan for the day?” Jason reaches across the counter to add fresh whipped cream to the fruit on his plate.

“I, uh, need to talk to Lucius about WE. I haven’t been there in two months and the current cover story is just that I was attacked.” Tim continues to pick at the food. “I can’t do the job anymore. I don’t WANT to do the job anymore. So that’s something.”

The last part is a lie. Tim had liked his job, especially with the foundation. Tam is more than up to the task but it still hurts. Just one more thing to justify his constant anger. He tries to push it down but can feel it rising to the surface. Oh, wait. That’s not anger. 

Tim lunges for the garbage can as his breakfast resurfaces. At least it didn’t taste that bad coming up.

\------

Days pass and time seems to move in a blur for Tim until one day he finds himself on the couch in Titan’s Tower utterly miserable. It’s a worse day. Cassie came up with the system. They’d tried to rank days one to ten, but Tim’s difficulty concentrating and making decisions under pressure makes even that small task nearly impossible sometimes. So instead he has 'good days' or ‘bad days.’ And if they require more categorization than that, he has ‘worse days’. Tim knows Cassie has ‘REALLY good day’ as an option, but that has yet to happen. 

Good days are pretty much functional. He can keep food down (mostly), watch TV, laugh, play a game. He can even look at the cases that Babs sends him, though cases that once would have taken hours now take days or weeks if he can get through them at all. Sometimes he can manage more strenuous exercise. And, sure, his hand eye coordination isn’t nearly as accurate as it was, but it’s improving. The occasional loss of temper or emotional outburst doesn’t usually last long. Good days are manageable, even pleasurable sometimes, with only minor inconveniences caused by his condition.

Bad days are usually manageable, never pleasurable. He has at least one or two bad days each week. Vertigo makes doing just about anything impossible and he rarely has any warning when it hits. Sometimes his heart rate spikes for no reason. He’s always nauseous throughout the day. It takes ages for him to walk anywhere and he snaps at his friends when they try to help. These days are when he’s most likely to say things. To yell or rant or blame someone who loves him for what he’s going through. They understand, but he knows it hurts. These are the days when he needs space and craves affection more than anything.

Then there are worse days. Days when his vision blurs to the point where he’s nearly blind. Sometimes he vomits until his stomach aches and his throat feels raw. His head pounds behind his blurry eyes making each waking moment agony. Every beam of light, every sound wave slams into his brain like a bomb. If someone tries to speak to him, he’ll have forgotten their first sentence by the time they start their second. These are the days that make him hateful.

And it’s a worse day. So he huddles on the couch with a washcloth over his eyes from Cassie, with the meds that Bart had picked up from Leslie back in Gotham, and a stolen Superman cape that Kon had tucked around him. And he waits for the worse day to be over.

\------

Three weeks later he’s sitting in one of Jason’s safe houses and he’s smiling. Jason and the Titans apparently have some kind of custody arrangement that includes a complex schedule Tim doesn’t bother keeping track of. He’s not being babysat. He knows that. Tim knows they're there to help him maintain his boundaries with Bruce, as much as he hates to remind himself of that. So he tells himself they just want to make sure he has company when he wants it and when he doesn’t, he has the WATCH. 

He and Jason are playing a dart game, trying to hit scraps of paper with various bits of writing to help them ‘predict’ the next big Gotham disaster. Tim’s aim is shit but if he can get it in the general vicinity of one of the scraps it’s a hit. He knows he’s being pandered to. He doesn’t care.

“That’s Ivy… at the Gotham Gazette… with a rocket launcher. Huh. That would be something.” Jason hits every piece of paper dead center.

“Okay, okay. I’ve got penguin… at the hospital… With a ketchup gun. Honestly that just sounds therapeutic.” 

“It’s my turn again. Joker… at a warehouse…with a crowbar! I feel like that’s a winner!” Jason laughs at the look on Tim’s face.

“You’re so morbid.”

“And hilarious.” Jason retrieves the darts and holds his hand out for a fist bump. Weeks earlier Tim had a severe anxiety response to Jason reaching out to him. Since then Jason has made a point to let Tim initiate any physical contact and it’s been working. Tim brushes his knuckles against the fist. “So what’s the latest update from the doc?”

“She wants me to start thinking about mood stabilizers. Maybe even antidepressants.” There’s no reason to hide that from Jason. If anyone can understand wanting to feel stable it’s him. 

Jason gives Tim a measured look. “That's a bad thing?”

“Vigilantes can’t really be dependent on something like that. Missing a dose can do a lot of damage, especially with my…condition.” Logically Tim is aware that his cape and cowl days are over. He hadn’t even meant for them to last for so long. But it’s so ingrained in him that the idea that he might never have the choice to go back is torture.

It’s clear Jason is considering his words as he heads over to the kitchen to prepare a snack. His brow furrows as he starts pulling out ingredients for milkshakes. “I think there’d be less vigilantes if more of 'em went to therapy and some of 'em used those meds. I think if therapy were more available in Gotham there would be less need for vigilantes period.”

“So you’re saying I should do it?”

“Am I sayin' you should follow the advice of the person who went to medical school and saved your ass more times than you can count? Yeah, I think you should.” The sound of the blender keeps them from speaking for a minute.

When the milkshake is poured Tim takes a slow sip, enjoying how it settles in his stomach. Today is one of his good days so Jason has been taking advantage of that by preparing calorie packed snacks throughout the day. “I just want to be who I was before.”

“I get that. I do. And yeah, you’ve changed because things are different for you. They’re harder than maybe they’ve ever been. But you’re still fighting and that’s all Tim.” Jason’s attempt at a heartfelt speech, appreciated as it is, is thankfully interrupted by a knock on the door and Dick’s voice filtering through, asking to come in.

For a moment Tim feels anxiety well up, but a look at Jason says that he’s willing to keep Dick locked outside with no explanation if it makes Tim more comfortable. Knowing that makes Tim feel strong enough to nod that he’s okay with the other man coming inside. Jason goes over to unlock the door and Dick steps in, freezing when he spots Tim.

“Timmy. Hey.” Dick moves forward hopefully, arms extending to hug Tim.

“Don’t. I don’t want you to hug me. I don’t want you to touch me.” Tim pauses. Breathes. He reminds himself it’s a good day. He wants it to stay that way. “You’re here for Jason so just do what you need to do and leave.”

Dick’s hopeful look shatters and the vindictive part of Tim gives a little cheer in the back of his head. Jason, solid and intimidating, asks. “You needed something?”

“Yeah, I have some intel I thought you could use.” Dick tosses a flash drive at Jason. “And I wanted to check on you. I didn’t know Tim was here. I’m glad to see both of you.”

Jason just glares and Tim can’t tell if he wants to run or fight or puke. Every second that goes by feels closer to some sort of massive blow up. Tim wants to scream. Instead, Tim puts a hand on the panic button of his WATCH, just in case he can’t calm down, reminds himself it’s a good day and forces himself to smirk at Jason. 

“Come on Jay, there’s no reason to be so HARD on him.” Tim starts off.

“Well maybe he shouldn’t be so STIFF.” Jason is smirking back. They’ve gotten good at this game over the past few weeks.

“Yeah, well, I know you’re just trying to get a RISE out of him.”

“Are you two done with the dick jokes?” There was a point in time where Dick would have found it funny. But it’s clear he doesn’t like being left out or the butt of the joke. If Tim didn’t know any better, he’d think Dick is jealous. And that feels amazing.

“I had, like, three more.” Tim takes his hand off the WATCH.

Jason waits for a beat then shrugs and says. “Penis.”

Tim actually laughs a bit at that. “Okay, now we’re done.”

It’s quiet for a moment before Dick asks, “While I’m already here, can we talk? Just for a minute?”

Tim realizes that Jason is waiting for him to make a decision and that the man would happily throw Dick out if Tim wanted him to. “Sure.”

With no invitation to come further into the apartment, Dick stands awkwardly near the door, several feet from Tim. “I’m sorry.”

When he doesn’t say anything else Tim just shrugs. “Okay, fine.” 

“That’s it?”

“You didn’t really give me much to work with so it’s what I have.” Tim snorts. “At least Damian meant it. You don’t even know what to be sorry about. You just want to feel better.”

Dick looks desperate and out of his depth. “I have a lot to be sorry for, Tim. I know that. What I don’t know is how to fix this.”

“You don’t GET to fix this. I am broken. Maybe forever. And that’s on you and Bruce and Damian and even Alfred.” Tim knows if they keep going Dick’s going to regret it. Batman’s first protege had always managed to avoid any fallout from the people he had hurt in the past, people he had loved, just by ignoring what he’d done until it got better. Well this isn’t going to get better and Tim isn’t going to let Dick forget if the other man insists on pushing him. “You can spend the rest of your life knowing that what I’m going through could have been prevented by you. This is just the end of a fucking list of ways you screwed me over.” 

“I don’t regret giving Robin to Damian.” Apparently Dick is willing to open old wounds today and this is what he’s choosing to start with. “You were so much stronger than him. He needed it in a way the rest of us never did. And I needed leverage. I’m sorry for how it happened. So much sorrier than-” 

“You should back off right now unless you want to bring up a shit storm of my issues with you. I’m not talking about Robin. How you did that was wrong. That’s undeniable. At the time I thought it was so painful I was going to die. But it wasn’t the wrong decision. And I WAS stronger than Damian.” Tim feels wired from the confrontation, energy spiking through him. “You tried to take my mind from me. To make me doubt my reasoning. My intelligence. No matter what other skills any Robins had over me, I was always smarter than the rest. I KNEW Bruce was alive and you said I was crazy!”

“Do you know what you sounded like?” Dick’s getting frustrated. Good. Tim’s always frustrated lately. It’s nice to have someone to lash out at.

“Just because I didn’t have evidence that I was right didn’t mean that something wasn’t wrong. In this life it’s just as important to prove that someone is DEAD. Digger Harkness came back to life THREE TIMES. I think the benefit of the doubt should be SOP for people like us.” Tim’s shouting now. But he’s shouting the truth and it feels so good. Words pour out of him and the relief he feels as they exit is like ice on a burn. “I think you and Bruce never really understood what it was like figuring out you two were Batman and Robin. I told you I figured it out when I was nine because I saw Robin perform a fancy flip on TV for a MOMENT. The second I saw that I told my mom ‘Bruce Wayne is Batman.’ I was too excited to keep my mouth shut. And she looked at me and said, ‘Don’t be stupid, Timothy.’ But I wasn’t stupid. I’m still not stupid. Broken, but not stupid. My mother had seen the exact same flip on the television. And six years earlier, when I was THREE, we had both seen an identical flip performed by a kid at a circus. We had identical information and from that information I was the one who theorized that Bruce Wayne was Batman. It wasn’t evidence. Robin was, IS, a world class athlete who could have learned how to do a quad. But my intuition concluded immediately that Bruce Wayne was Batman because Dick Grayson was Robin. Because that’s how intuition WORKS. Information that you can’t quite process. Little bits of data lining up in a pattern in your mind. It’s not right every time, that’s true. But following instincts to find evidence to either prove or disprove a theory is called an investigation. You know, like a detective.”

Dick is a little shell-shocked from Tim’s outburst. “We know we messed up. I messed up. Tim, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything.” 

“You took everything I had left back then. You told people I was crazy. You told ME I was crazy. At the end of all of that the ONLY thing I still had was my mind. And now I don’t have that. So whatever life I manage to build for myself, you won’t have the chance to take it from me.” Tim’s done. It was cathartic and electrifying while he was shouting, but now he’s tired. The energy seeps out of his limbs.

“I think you need to leave, Dick.” Jason is physically pushing Dick towards the door despite the older man’s protests.

Tim sits down on the couch and puts his head between his knees, breathing deeply. It’s definitely still a good day.

\------

“Well I’m delighted to hear that your vision has improved so much.” Dr. Thompkins sits across from Tim on his couch. She likes to check in on him every two weeks and it’s her fourth visit since she started him on medication. “Anything else to report.

“Uh, no.” Tim shakes his head. His vision has improved to the point where he thinks it’s back to what it was. Everything else, though, he’s not sure. He still has to use Cassie’s system and for a while the bad days dominated, with worse days increasing as well. Then the good days started to gain ground again. Tim isn’t sure if it’s the medication or it’s just because he wants it to be the medication. It’s too soon for him to feel confident confirming any improvement. Today is a good day, though, so that’s something.

Dr. Thompkins smiles at him and reaches over to pat his knee. “Okay. Well I’d still like to see you gain some weight back. Jason seems to have made it his mission to find a way to pack three-thousand calories into a meal and still have it taste exquisite while your friend Bart doesn’t seem to realize normal humans can’t eat their body weight in churros.”

Tim smiles at that and walks her to his door. They say their goodbyes and he is alone. Moving back to the couch Tim sinks down and closes his eyes, just for a minute.

He wakes up to the sound of hail and what he thinks is thunder until his window rattles again. For a second he thinks Jason had to come back from patrol early and needed to come in through the window. But it’s Damian. Or more specifically, Robin. And he’s holding his arm up to his chest like he’s been injured. Tim quickly moves over to the window and unlatches the lock. Damian stumbles inside, shivering from the cold and Tim slams the window shut before more icy air can follow him. 

“What the hell, Damian?” The kid is soaked to the skin and Tim uses his WATCH to turn the lights on so he can see what he’s dealing with. Once he can see he’s happy to know that at least Damian is not, in fact, hurt.

“You were close. I told father and Grayson there was a shelter nearby and they allowed me to leave while they finished. I did not say where.” He holds a shivering kitten tightly to his chest. It’s small enough to fit in the palm of the kid’s hand, blinking and damp. “I found others with her but they did not survive.”

Tim goes to his linen closet and grabs an armful of towels as well as his electric blanket. When he returns he reaches for the small cat and, hesitantly, Damian hands it to him.

“Go take a shower and put on some dry clothes. There’s clean sweats in there.” Tim points to the laundry basket he’d discarded next to his dining room table. Damian obeys without a word and Tim turns back to his new charge.

It’s tiny and wet and when it smells his fingers it hisses at the potential threat, baring its’ infant fangs. Tim grins. He rubs it gently with a towel, enjoying how the soft fur sticks up as he dries it off. Within seconds he can hear the sound of a purr even though the little animal is still shivering in his hands. He wraps it in another towel and holds it to his chest as he’d seen Damian do before plugging in the electric blanket.

Tim pulls the blanket over himself and the kitten and settles back onto the couch while he waits for Damian to return. Ten minutes later and they are in the room together wondering what to do next. Well the first priority is the cat.

“Should we feed her?” Tim asks. “I’ve never had a pet before. Never really been around them much. I wasn’t allowed.”

Damian looks as confused as Tim. “I’m uncertain as well. I’ve never cared for a cat this small.”

“How about you do some research and I’ll keep this little guy warm.” Tim motions to his laptop on the coffee table. Damian cautiously picks it up and sits in a chair across from him.

“She is female. You can tell from her pattern. Calico.” Damian is typing and very pointedly avoiding Tim’s eyes. “And it says here that if her eyes are open and she has some mobility then we may use meat baby food as a substitute until a better diet can be acquired. There is bound to be baby food at the all night market down the street. I’ll get some.”

Tim stops Damian before the kid can bolt out the door into a freezing storm. “I think I’m more prepared for this than either of us realized.” 

“You have baby food?” Damian looks like he wants to say something cutting, but holds himself back.

“Somedays I can’t keep a lot of food down and solids are hard on my stomach. Protein is important but the shakes can make me feel sick.” Tim explains, handing the kitten back to Damian and covering them both with the electric blanket before heading to the kitchen. “Dr. Thompkins said that baby food might be easier on some of the really bad days. It’s better than nothing.”

“Dr. Thompkins is very intelligent.” Damian has never complimented anyone but Dick or Bruce while in Tim’s presence so this is a revelation.

“Yeah, she’s great.” Tim’s perusing his selection for something with pure meat and settles on chicken and gravy. “Do you spend time with her or something?”

“She supervises my volunteer work. A program she insisted on after you were released from her care.” Damian is still avoiding Tim’s eyes. “I spend time with those who have been admitted to a care facility after suffering from a long-term debilitating injury.”

Tim grabs a spoon and heads back to the living room, but doesn’t say anything. He sits on the coffee table in front of Damian and pulls back the blanket to reveal the kitten. A small scoop of baby food is offered and the tiny animal immediately dives for it, growling quietly as she eats. Looking up Tim can’t help but smile, just a bit, at Damian’s expression. They don’t give her too much, afraid that she’ll get sick. When they feel she’s had enough, Tim puts the lid on the baby food and puts it in his fridge. He then looks around for some kind of box to contain the little animal and settles on a medium sized delivery box. Once inside the box, cocooned by a nest of towels and covered with a blanket the kitten goes to sleep immediately.

“You need to get home.” Tim’s feeling tolerant but he has no desire for Dick or Bruce to show up looking for their wayward bird. “Jason can take you. He should be here soon and I don’t think he’ll mind. I’d do it but I’m not really comfortable driving yet.”

Damian’s mouth twists oddly. “Todd would be acceptable.”

Tim sends the text and he and Damian sit in awkward silence. Finally Tim can’t take it. “Do you like the volunteer work?”

“I did not. But it has been several months and I have met worthwhile people. Many of them kind and intelligent. They are good company and I am learning a great deal.” There’s pride in Damian’s voice. Not arrogance, but proper pride from something hard earned. 

They don’t speak again until Jason texts that he’s pulling up. Tim stands up when Damian moves to leave and holds his hand out for a fist bump like he does with Jason. “I’m proud of you.”

Damian taps his fist gently against Tim’s and heads out the door.

\------

The kitten is a welcome addition to Tim’s life. At first he had fully intended to take her to a shelter, but he didn’t like the look of the one closest to him. So he went to the nearest pet store and bought a variety of kitten essentials and accepted that he had a pet. Jason and the Titans had approved immediately. Three days after her rescue they have all piled into Tim’s apartment to visit.

“What are you going to name her?” Bart‘s on the floor dragging a toy mouse for the cat to follow.

“I’ve just been calling her Little Bird. She chirps sometimes.”

“It’s a cat. That’s called a meow.” Jason’s voice matches his face in disbelief. 

Cassie rolls her eyes. “You call her whatever you want to.”

“I think you should call her Kryptonia.” Kon’s grinning. “Toni for short.”

Tim ignores all of them as he slowly reads through a cold case file, trying to focus as hard as he can. The cases take forever to get through and even longer to solve, but he likes the satisfaction he gets when he manages to find a new piece. A tap on the door startles him from his work, but he waves his friends away and answers it himself.

The courier on the other side holds a large box. “Package for Tim Drake?”

Taking the box carefully in both hands, Tim thanks the courier and closes the door.

“What’s that?” Jason never stops being concerned.

“I ordered some more cat stuff.” The rest of the group laughs as Tim hauls the box to the dining room table. 

Upon opening it Tim realizes it IS cat stuff, but not what he ordered. There’s a luxurious new cat bed along with a variety of toys as well as a book for new cat owners. Tucked in as well are Tim’s sweats, freshly laundered and another, smaller package.

Tim pulls the smaller box out and opens it to reveal an outrageously expensive custom camera along with a variety of accessories. He’s never owned a camera this nice. There’s a note taped to the side of the smaller package. Tim reads it, looks over at his friends, his new pet, the incredible new camera, and reads it again.

‘I sincerely hope I didn’t take everything.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel satisfied where I left this but I might add other one shots to a series in the future because I do want to figure something out for Bruce and Dick. I also have some really fun ideas for future things with Tim, Damian and Jason. Not all together, necessarily, but still. We'll have to see.


	3. Chapter 3

Just wanted to say I've decided to add one-shots to this as a series. The first one is out and is basically just what's going on from Dick's POV during this story. I don't post on AO3 much so I figured I should post this to the original story. Sorry if this bothers anyone.

**Author's Note:**

> So if it isn’t super clear in this story, I blame Bruce pretty much entirely for how Tim and Damian’s relationship has turned out. It’s very clear he never talks to either boy about ANYTHING. This is brought to light pretty clearly in the comics. When Tim is pushed off the dinosaur by Damian, Bruce never does anything. And then Damian comes back to the cave looking for Bruce to help him escape Ra's, but Tim has recovered fully from his push off the dinosaur by then. And how do we know Bruce hasn’t talked to either of them? Because Tim is convinced that Damian is tricking him to try and kill him again and has attacked Alfred (again). Damian had genuinely been looking for help and Tim attacked him. Those two instances set the tone for the entire relationship and it could have all been avoided pretty fucking easily. Sitting down and talking and then listening for just a few minutes could have saved everyone a lot of grief. So I don’t really blame any of the boys for their actions. They were doing what they were taught. Damian from his mom and Tim from Bruce. I don’t even blame Dick because even though he didn’t handle things all that great, Bruce left an absolute shit show for him to deal with. And if anyone says that Bruce didn’t sign up for Damian, that’s true. But then he accepted him and that makes Damian his responsibility. So you know who REALLY didn’t sign up for Damian? Dick. But he tried and he did a better job than Bruce and still screwed up because Bruce set all these kids up for failure. Unintentionally, but he did. I truly believe that if Dick sat down for just a minute and thought of some of the things he wishes Bruce had said to him, he’d be able to come up with what he wants to say to Damian. And Tim.


End file.
